I was feeling pretty hopeful the day after I tested positive for COVID on a rapid test. My fever broke the night before, and although I slept through most of the day and was lethargic during my waking hours, overall I was doing pretty good. I started to fantasize about what my quarantine days could look like: I could sleep for 8 hours, have at least one nap during the day, I could binge watch tv shows, maybe mess around in the kitchen and practice my knife skills. And best of all, I could have coffee for the next several days without thinking about whether or not the brew was right, or if there was something in that specific coffee I wanted to change. I could just consume coffee and enjoy it for what it is–something I don’t get to do as often as I’d like. But after dinner, soon before bedtime, a slight sense of panic started to creep in as my face seemed to slowly tighten. Many years ago, I caught the flu and experienced a complete loss of smell and taste for two days. I didn’t think too much of it at the time. Sure, I was annoyed, but I wasn’t as in tune with my senses the way that I am now–nor did my job at the time rely on my discerning ability to smell or taste.
The following morning, I woke up with a stuffy nose and a sinus headache. I had a stale taste in my mouth that reminded me of drinking water from a cup that had been sitting out in the living room all day. I knew what this meant, but I tried to ignore it. I walked into the bathroom, took some water from the sink, and rinsed my mouth in hopes that it would help this odd feeling. But that unpleasant taste I woke up with didn’t disappear. It was just there, latched onto my tongue and cheeks no matter how much tap water I swished around in my mouth. I knew my sense of smell and taste were gone.
When news broke out early into the pandemic that the loss of smell and taste were symptoms of COVID, and that damage could be long-term if not permanent, I knew I had to prepare for the worst, regardless of vaccinations and variant developments. I began training folks and started putting systems into place so that if I became ill and unfit to do the task of tasting, others on our team could step up to the plate. I would be there and serve as a guide for them while I focused on my recovery.
Nearly eight weeks have passed since I woke up with dulled senses. Although I don’t think my ability to smell and taste is what it used to be, I’m back to the point where I can evaluate coffee accurately. If you’re having trouble tasting or smelling and are looking for a guide to regain your senses, or are simply looking for more tips to sharpen your sensory skills, keep reading to learn about what I did to get me through the past several weeks.
Work With What You Know and Pay Attention to Body and Mouthfeel.
While your sense of taste or smell may be affected, you should still have the ability to recognize texture and weight. If you were blindfolded and given bite size samples of an orange, apple, and banana, there’s a pretty good chance you’ll be able to guess the fruit based on mouthfeel alone.
Upon ending my quarantine and getting ready to go back into work, I wanted to see where my abilities were at the moment without any judgment. With some help, I set up a blind cupping with 3 samples of distinct coffees from our menu that I committed to memory: a citrusy and floral Ethiopian coffee, a jammy Peruvian coffee, and a chocolatey coffee from Guatemala.
This small exercise that is normally easy for me proved to be incredibly difficult, but I found a "glimmer of hope in the ruins of disaster.” I lean on my perceptions of sweetness, acidity, body and mouthfeel, flavor, and aftertaste when evaluating coffee. I couldn’t perceive any of these except for body and mouthfeel, which intensified and settled after I had let the coffees cool past 15 minutes. I tasted the samples of coffee probably a dozen times before making my final guesses, and I was relieved to find that they were correct: the one that seemed thinner and tee-like was Ethiopian, the one that seemed a little smooth and medium bodied was Peruvian, and the one that felt the most viscous and full bodied was Guatemalan.
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t upset that I couldn’t pick up flavor attributes. But, I was pretty excited I had enough practice in evaluating body and mouthfeel that I could perceive it well enough in coffee! From that moment forward, I leaned on this ability the most while I let my other abilities slowly come back. Although I couldn’t really perceive any flavor after two weeks had passed, old sensations were starting to reappear. I did the same blind coffee tasting from a few weeks prior, and I was able to guess the coffees correctly based on mouthfeel: The coffee that gave me the sharpest tingly feeling was the Ethiopian coffee, because that coffee’s sharpness was akin to lemons; the Peruvian coffee was the one that was slightly sharp but had a somewhat rich mouthfeel; and the Guatemalan coffee was the one that didn’t have any sharpness, but a smooth heavy mouthfeel. It almost felt silky and syrupy at the bottom of my cheeks, similar to what I feel when I eat milk chocolate.
Take every small detail that you can pick up and use it to your advantage, and try practicing with foods of varying textures. Here’s a few other sets I tested myself with:
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dark chocolate, milk chocolate, rustic (rough) chocolate
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kettle-style potato chips, thin and airy potato chips, tortilla chips
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walnuts, almonds, cashews
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orange, mango, apple
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broccoli, tomato, celery